


Spin Cycle

by marginalia



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-26
Updated: 2003-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/pseuds/marginalia
Summary: Utter silliness





	

**Author's Note:**

> Utter silliness

Dom always volunteered to do the laundry.

Billy found this puzzling, as Dom had enough difficulty getting his jeans in the hamper in the first place. He stopped pondering it on a lazy Saturday afternoon when Dom cruised through the kitchen smelling of warmth and clean and home.

"Hang on," Billy called, popping up from the table and pulling Dom back by a belt loop. Dom smirked at him and sashayed back to the chair. "You smell . .good."

"I know." He pushed Billy down onto the chair, and straddling him, slid into his lap. "I thought you'd like it." Dom leaned in, but Billy pushed him back.

"You thought I had a laundry fetish?"

Dom attempted to look innocent. "Don't you?"

Billy cocked his head to one side. "Well. I might." he sniffed at Dom dramatically, then sneezed. "Maybe not."

"Not yet, you mean," Dom corrected, smiling wickedly. He trailed his finger down the row of buttons on Billy's shirt and over the zipper of his jeans. "It's all subject to change."

"D'you think so?" Billy tried to ask, but was stopped by the wetheat of mouthtoungeteeth . . .oh . . and maybe a Dom laundry fetish wasn't such a bad thing after all. Strong fingers on the back of his neck held him in place as Dom twisted insistently in his lap and tightened his thighs around Billy's waist.

"I have" . . .nip at the earlobe . . . "great confidence" . . . trailing kisses down Billy's jaw . . . "in my ability" . . .momentary tangling as they attempted to unbutton each other's shirts at the same time . . . "to condition your response."

Dom's palm applied firm but teasingly insufficient pressure while his tongue and teeth provided a definite distraction via Billy's neck and mouth. Breath ragged, Billy finally paused to peer up at him. "You're also crushing my legs."

"Point. Where, then?"

"Not the table. Don't think it could take it." They surveyed the room. Eyes meeting. In unison: "Laundry room."

And then they fucked on the washing machine.

~finis~


End file.
